In the Greenhouse
by hashire
Summary: Temari is lazing the evening away in her greenhouse when Kankurou comes barging in. Rated M for sexual themes and Sandcest.


Disclaimer: Ha! I'm just a poor student whose parents are paying her way through college. Like I'd own Naruto.

Notes: I started this last June while on vacation. I sort of lost inspiration for it shortly thereafter. I've picked it up, edited, and added to it every so often. I finally finished it last night. First hetsmut I've written, though it's not the first time I've written smut. (Edited 6/17/10 to fix errors and a few other things.)

**Warnings:** sex, sandcest

* * *

Temari reclined on one of the benches near the far end of her greenhouse. After a long day of training or after a strenuous mission, she liked to go into her greenhouse and lie around on one of the many benches set up inside it. She'd often fall asleep and wake up, sweaty and smelling like her many plants.

Her father had built for her when she expressed a liking for botany. It was one of the few things he had ever done for her; otherwise he was constantly focused on Gaara and keeping him under control.

Temari had stripped off most of her clothes, only leaving the mesh bodysuit and skirt on before falling back onto the bench. It was hot in there, just as hot as outside, but not as dry. The humidity made her drowsy, and she was dozing, one arm thrown over her eyes, when the door opened and then slammed shut.

"Oi, what are you doing in here?" Kankurou's voice was loud and almost echoed in the small greenhouse, but Temari felt too tired to drag her arm off her face to glare at him.

"Not much," she replied after a few moments. She traced lines on the wooden bench lazily with her other hand, breathing out heavily through her nose.

"It's fuckin' hot in here," Kankurou responded, sounding harsh and out of place in the willowy air of the greenhouse.

"Shut up," Temari snapped, pulling her arm off her face to finally glare at him. "It's hot everywhere around here." She slid her hand under her head and tugged at her hair, pushing it out of the way to make herself more comfortable. She narrowed her eyes a bit, and Kankurou ran a hand through his hair; he must have taken the hood off before coming in.

Kankurou didn't say anything to that; instead, he reached over to one of the many plants that Temari kept in her greenhouse. She used Chakra to grow them instead of water, considering how scarce it could get in the desert. He had barely touched a leaf when Temari snapped at him again.

"Don't touch it," she warned, turning her head to glare at him again. He watched her for a moment, his hand curling slightly, as if ready to grab and crush the fragile leaf; she went rigid and the look on her face told him that she would most likely kill him (or at least maim him) if he dared to do such a thing. And, while he wasn't (very) afraid of her, he did know that she could kill him if she wanted to. His hand fell back to his side and she relaxed, just a bit.

Kankurou approached the bench she was reclining on. Temari crossed her ankles and pulled her hand out from behind her head to trace one of the flower petals near her. She plucked it off suddenly and brought it to her forehead, placing in between her brows and absently wiping away the sweat that was there. She had told her brother not to do what she had done, but this was different; they were her plants and she could do what she wanted with them.

"Why do you wear that thing?" Kankurou's voice was a little softer than before, now that he was closer to Temari.

"What thing?" She adjusted the petal on her forehead and put her arm over her eyes again. She knew Kankurou was frowning at her.

"That bodysuit. Isn't it hard to get out of?" She frowned back at him but didn't pull her arm off her face.

"No," she replied shortly. "What am I supposed to do, go around with nothing on under my clothes?"

"Well, that's what I do sometimes." Temari didn't make any move to respond to him, and the silence stretched between them. Kankurou could feel her disdain, even if she wasn't saying or doing anything.

Temari was already dozing again when Kankurou started moving around. Sometimes she just doesn't understand how he could move so quietly while on missions. He was always stomping around the house, and he seemed to be making as much noise as possible as he wandered through the rows of the plants. She ignored him for awhile, still trying to sleep on the bench, even if it was uncomfortable.

When Kankurou returned to her side, Temari hadn't fallen asleep. She dragged her arm across her eyes, rubbing them. When she looked up at him, he wasn't looking at her face. She didn't even have to follow his eyes to see where he was staring at, and rolled her eyes. She grabbed the petal off her head, which was now heavier, having absorbed some of her perspiration. She flicked it away and glanced back at Kankurou, whose gaze, of course, was still on her breasts.

Temari sat up a bit, leaning back on her elbows and lifting her legs to crook her knees a bit. She felt her skirt sticking to her thighs for a moment before slowly peeling away from the weight of her perspiration and gravity. She didn't have to look at Kankurou to know that he was watching the skirt fall away from her skin.

"Is there a reason you came in here?" He started a bit and looked at her face. It was almost as if he had forgotten that she could speak while he ran his eyes down her body.

"What?" She sighed and sat up a little more, leaning against her hands. She didn't move her legs or try to fix her skirt. It didn't really matter if he looked up it or not. He did it all the time anyway. She had whacked him with the end of her fan and knocked him out the first time she noticed, but he didn't stop doing it and she stopped caring shortly thereafter.

"Did you come in here to tell me something or just to bother me?" Kankurou paused for a moment, as if trying to remember why he had come in here. The greenhouse was a bit out of the way, at the back of the house, away from most of the regularly used rooms. He shrugged. "Your paint is melting." He made a face at her that made her laugh.

"Shut up." Kankurou reached up and touched his cheek, and, indeed, it was covered with half melted face paint. A bit ran down to his chin, and Temari reached up and brushed it away with her thumb. He looked at her for a moment; he watched as she rubbed it between her fingertips, and then wiped them on the bench. He knelt a bit, so he was at eye level with Temari. She returned his gaze, a daring spark clearly visible in it. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were taunting him a bit.

Kankurou leaned in and kissed her. Temari's lips felt dewy against his, and she tasted a bit like grass. A bead of sweat slid down from her brow and into the corner of her mouth. The taste of salt mixed with the plant taste, and he ran his tongue along the bottom of her lip. She made a little noise and Kankurou's knees felt weak.

He moved his lips along her cheek, along her chin, the salt taste becoming stronger in his mouth. Temari rubbed her cheek against his and purple paint spread across it. It felt odd and heavy on her face, and she wondered how Kankurou could wear it all the time. She gasped when she felt a large, warm hand on her breast and reached to grab it. Kankurou pulled back and looked at her, smiling at her purple-smeared cheek. She scowled at him before leaning in again, veering off to press her lips against his neck and then to his ear. She sank her teeth into his earlobe, and he knelt down until his knees hit the floor of the greenhouse.

Temari swung her legs over the edge of the bench, and Kankurou, predictably, looked up her skirt as she spread her legs. She shoved him and his back hit the floor hard, his head making a soft thump as it connected. He immediately brought it back up and glared at her, opening his mouth to ask her why the hell she had done it when she moved fluidly off the bench and straddled him. His mouth shut as quickly as it opened and he stared up at Temari, who placed on hand in the middle of his chest and settled into his lap.

Kankurou reached out and grabbed her hips, his fingers sliding under the waistband of her skirt. Temari loomed above him, something in her eyes that he couldn't quite figure out. Her hand stayed firmly planted on his chest, effortlessly holding him down. Kankurou knew she was strong, but he never would have expected her to be able to keep his back on the floor with just one hand as she sat in his lap.

Kankurou tugged at her skirt, unable to move it much. He made a noise of frustration and yanked at it harder, and Temari's eyes widened when she felt the material dig into her skin before a ripping sound filled the thick air of the greenhouse. The skirt fell away with another pull, and Temari looked down, watching Kankurou's hand drag the fabric away.

"You're going to fix that," she growled, and he opened his mouth to reply, but she leaned over, hand still on his chest. Temari didn't taste like salt anymore; the dewy feel was still there but now she tasted more like it: something like fresh dew might taste like early in the morning on grass. Her tongue slid into his mouth, and he grabbed her hips again.

Kankurou shifted under Temari, trying to move them so he could roll on top of her, but she brought her other hand down on his shoulder, stilling him almost completely. For once he wasn't in control; he was being moved according to Temari's will, could only move when she allowed it. Her fingers dug into his shoulder through his shirt, and he suddenly decided that he was wearing too many clothes. She seemed to agree as the hand on his shoulder traveled to the collar of his shirt, the one on his chest following.

Before he knew what was happening, his shirt was ripped down the middle, and she sat up, smirking down at him. She raised an eyebrow, daring him to complain, but he didn't, just taking his hands from her hips and moving to pull his arms out of the sleeves of the ruined shirt. She took her hands away from the torn edges, rubbing them along his chest, pushing him down again once his tossed his shirt off to the side.

Temari took one hand away, and Kankurou became entranced as she started to pull off her mesh bodysuit. She did it with such ease that, somewhere in the back of his mind where he could still think clearly, he knew how she could put on and take off that thing every day. She balled it up and tossed it away like he had his shirt, and then leaned over him again, pressing her lips to his chin as he moaned at the feel of her breasts against his chest. He slid his hands up her legs, over her hips, along her sides and into her hair, pulling at the ties to let it loose. He ran his fingers through it and her hands went to the waistline of his pants.

Temari slid her fingers over the top of the waistline of Kankurou's pants and his skin jumped under them. She pressed her lips to his throat and smirked against it. Her fingers teased along his stomach until he thrust a hand between her legs. She gasped and pushed hard on his stomach, making his breath rush out of him. He curled his fingers and ran them up her hot, wet skin. He groaned at the feeling and her fingers dug into his skin before she tugged at his pants.

Temari gasped as Kankurou's fingers traced up and down and he kissed her cheek, a soft gesture that seemed out of place in the hot sticky air of the greenhouse. His fingers dipped inside her shallowly and she groaned as the rough material of this fingerless gloves rubbed against the sensitive skin between her legs. She grabbed his wrist, sinking her nails into his skin. She could feel his smirk against her cheek, and resumed pulling down his pants, which was much harder to do with just one hand.

Kankurou removed his hand from her hair before tracing the lines of her body down to her hip. He held it there for a moment before she made an impatient noise and he helped her pull down his pants. Her mind was hazy, but she recalled his earlier words about not wearing anything under his clothes; she didn't particularly care at the moment that she found it to be true. She let go once they were halfway down his thighs, yanked his hand out from between her legs, and sat up. He looked up at her in confusion, wondering if she'd decided to stop suddenly, when she sank down onto him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped her hips. Temari growled, almost in warning, and he opened his eyes and stared up at her. The lust in her eyes made him shiver, and he traced her body with his gaze; he took in the slight sheen of sweat the clung to her skin, and the way her fingers were scraping along the skin of his stomach, as if searching for something to hold onto. He groaned and rocked his hips, and she growled again. His eyes met hers and the dark look in them told him that she was in charge here, and he'd better let her have her way or else.

Kankurou could only dig his fingers into the soft skin of her legs, fingers dipping to touch the sweaty backs of her knees at one point, as she set the pace. It was achingly slow at first, and he was close to begging before she could no longer tease him; when she needed more herself. Temari braced her hands on his shoulders, looked him straight in the eye and moved faster and faster.

Her thighs squeezed tightly around Kankurou's hips as she came, hands clenching on his shoulders. He found himself unable to do anything but follow her; his gaze took in the lust that was still heavy in her dark eyes.

Temari collapsed onto Kankurou's chest, gasping and shaking a little. She had never come so hard before, and the tremors continued to move through her body. He ran his fingers over her back, soothing her even as he was still dazed from his own orgasm. She tucked her head under his chin, and they stayed there for a long time, just breathing and calming down.

He was dozing when she finally sat up. She looked around them, eyes falling on his torn and discarded shirt. She pulled it on before wiping her paint-covered cheek against it. He scowled at her before remembering that the shirt was already ruined and it didn't matter if she made it dirty.

The also torn skirt was scooped up; she wrapped it around her hips and held it there with one hand, the other holding Kankurou's shirt closed over her upper body. He lazily pulled his pants back up over his hips. When he looked up again, she was walking away from him, leaving the rest of her clothes where they were on the floor of the greenhouse.

Kankurou grinned as he slowly sat up and then pushed himself to his feet. He slammed the door shut as he left, earning a glare from Temari, who was already halfway down the hall to his left. He just smirked at her and she continued on her way.

Later, he decided that he'd stop by and bother Temari in her greenhouse more often.


End file.
